PGSD: Post Graduation Stress Disorder

I have diagnosed myself with a general lackluster since my family left and my graduation celebration officially came to a close. The one downside I seem to be grappling with the most is the leftovers. There's chips and dip and beer (oh my)! Add to this an urge to sleep akin to a narcoleptic, and you've pretty much gotten a sense of how I've spent my past two days. Trying to break this cycle, I took myself to a movie. Yes, I know the stigma attached to a single person at a movie (loser, creeper, bag lady who dies alone and is eaten by her cats), but I love being able to eat my own popcorn and sit cross-legged with my shoes off.

So I finished watching an old version of Robin Hood on netflix (we shall discuss my obsession with Robin Hood at a later date) and realized that matinee movies run until 6 most days of the week. So, of course, I rolled off the futon that now has my ass firmly imprinted in it, and drove on over. This brought back memories of the last time I went to see a movie by myself:

It was a class assignment to review a movie, so with that pretense I went to see a campy teen movie. There I sat, alone and comfortable, in one of those tiny theaters they shove the unpopular movies into. Just as I'm settled in, the sound of the door slamming alerted me to someone breaking into my private screening. I watched as a shaggy head slowly bobbed into view. The boy was most likely in his late teens and stared at me with his dark, blank eyes. He kept eye contact as he made his slow, jagged way up the steps to my left. It appeared his left leg was too stiff to bend naturally. That left leg scraping along the plastic flooring echoed in the emptiness around us. I listened to it come to a rest directly behind me.

Naturally, I turned to look to confirm there was indeed a potential killer sitting right behind me... in an empty theater where he could have picked any seat. This must have been an invitation of some sort to the creepy boy because he leaned down and whispered into my ear, "Are you by yourself?"

I shot forward in my chair, "Obviously."

"Wow, that's really pathetic," the creepy teen boy with a limp now said to me, louder. And when I didn't respond, he added, "You need to have people with you to go to the movies, it's just sad to go alone."

I waited for him to limp back down the steps (bathroom?) before I jumped three rows to escape from him and in my head, a death by stabbing. That had effectively ended my solo movie outings until this point.

This time, I'm happy to report, no weird limping kids with all-pupil eyes called me pathetic. Unfortunately, this is all the activity I've had since Sunday. Wilderness Woman is on hold as of now; Flabby Woman has taken hold and doesn't want to let go. Currently, I'm eating a tear-n-share size of M&Ms and watching the Biggest Loser. There is something wrong here.